The Next Generation
by Wilma Al Carlson
Summary: Post return to labyrinth Star Wars Style James, Prince of the Goblins, has fallen in love for a mortal girl, Nicole Keriya. Will he learn from his fathers mistakes, or will his fathers past becom his future? Rated M for later chapters.


**This is my first fic, so please, constructive criticism.**

**Notice: I own nothing from the movie Labyrinth, and all rights belong to Jim Henson and Co.**

**Chapter 1:**

**Such a Sad Love**

The world swirled around her as she spun around the dance floor, her footsteps following those of her partner as he spun her about the ballroom. Her fiery hair spilled across her back as though ablaze, hiding most of her back the dress didn't cover with its dark green velvet. She smelled of untamed wilderness, secrets, and innocence; though her sparkling blue eyes contradicted the last, alight with mischief. Nicole was unwilling to awake from this wondrous dream, where she spun about the room in the arms of a man with equally mischievous mismatched eyes, and a smile that could outshine the sun.

He stopped her on the outskirts of the dance floor, and walked her to the door, eyes hesitant, as though afraid. He stopped her again by the door, and slowly, he leaned down, his lips-

**BRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIING!**

Yet again, Nicole Keriya was forced to open her eyes to another dreary, grey day. A long fingered spidery hand reached out and locked the alarm clock in an iron fist as she struggled to hold on to the dream, but it slipped away from her as though she was trying to catch smoke with her bare hands. "Damn, another good dream gone." She muttered darkly, and stretched much as a cat would, her light blue tank top riding up to expose a bit of her well-muscled stomach, and the tattoo that resided there, a wilting rose and the ribbon curling around it both colored a rich dark red. Holding the stretch for less than a minute, she stood with a semi-content sigh, and walked away from her messy bed, to get ready for her day.

A young looking man stormed about the castle, his aura pulsating with anger and frustration. "Damn it all! I was so close that time, too!" he shouted, pounding a fist into the wall, and sending the goblins nearby scampering away. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, and closed his oddly colored eyes. He stayed that way for roughly five minutes before standing straight again, and pacing to his father's throne room, hoping that the chaos would help keep him distracted.

Summoning a crystal, James stared into its depths, determined to see her before facing the remainder of the day. "What do you think you're doing, son?" asked the Goblin King, amusement making his eyes sparkle. James started slightly, and turned swiftly to see his father smirking down at him with a knowing expression. "Nothing." He answered too quickly, and carefully made his face blank to cover it. "Nothing? Nothing? Nothing, Tra la la?" asked Jareth, pacing in a circle around his heir.

"Nothing." Repeated the younger, his expression mildly bored. His father grinned, and clapped him on the back. "Watching from afar isn't the same as seeing her in person. Go above, see her, and get to know her. You have time. Just remember to take the iron antidote." With a wink, he hushed just as James' mother came around. Her long brunette hair was the exact shade of his own, though where hers was neat his was as wild as his fathers.

"What are you two talking about?" Sarah asked, amused suspicion playing in her expression. "Our son is infatuated, dear." replied Jareth with a smirk, much to his son's displeasure. "I am not!" he said with little dignity, his bored mask slipping when he did so. "I am merely interested. This is purely studious. Why are you laughing!?" he asked, so angry he couldn't stand it as he saw his fathers shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. "It seems falling for mortal's runs in the family." Jareth said in a shaky, laughing voice.

"Then I suggest that our son hurries before that lucky woman finds another." She eyed him in the way that only a mother could, and he vanished in a smaller, darker shower of glitter than what made his father so famous.


End file.
